Christabel R. Coleridge

“ Back on Martha’s mind came an evening long ago, and the sound of a sharp, aggravating, provoking whistle, a boy’s face, too like Florrie’s, peeping in first at the door and then at the window, and a voice repeating, “Don’t care—don’t care—don’t care!” in more and more saucy accents, as the speaker ran off across the forbidden turf of the cemetery, jumping over the graves as he came to them. That night had brought the explosion of mischief which had resulted in Harry’s departure from home and in his final banishment. ”

“ She ran on through the band of fir trees that divided Ravenshurst from Ashcroft, and, crossing the stile between the two properties, found herself, though she did not know it, close to the place where the letter had been picked up, and not far from the ash-tree named in it.
Then she began to grow puzzled about the way. The long yellow lines of light faded, the tall trees rustled overhead, the heavy whir and flap of a startled pheasant sounded close at hand. Deadly fear seized on Florence. If she had been frightened in the sunny morning, she was doubly frightened now in the twilight. ”

“ I want to have my fun,” said Florrie. “Come on, Ethel, if you’re coming; I want to catch up with Carrie and Ada. Good-bye, aunt; I like lessons best in school.”
And off dashed Florrie through the summer sunshine, between the avenue of monuments, her hair flying, her skirts swinging, and her loud lively voice sounding behind and before her as she scurried along.
“Well!” said Aunt Lizzie, “she be a one, surely. That girl wants a tight hand over her, Martha Jane, if ever a girl die yet.” ”

“ She did not mean to misbehave herself, but her notions of behaviour were so very unlike Mrs Warren’s. The kindest thing that could be said of her was that she meant well, but unfortunately she did very badly. Moreover, she did not appear to have a single aspiration after better things. She had lived the life of a little animal, bent on nothing but on pleasing herself; but as she was not a mere animal, but a human soul, with human powers for good or evil, evil was getting terribly the upper hand. It was not so much what Florence did as what she was that was the pity. ”

“ Alwyn looked at the wreath, which was constructed with great skill and of an infinite variety of leaves, berries, and blossoms. Every summer flower lingering in shady corners of the wood had been brought together. There were bits of every different kind of tree—autumn berries, curious seed vessels, grasses and rushes, heather and ferns, moss and lichen—all the woodland world was represented. It could not be a gay wreath with its infinite mixture of tints and forms, but there was the very spirit of the wood in its sober colouring and fresh woody smell. ”

“ Aunt Lizzie, I didn’t see you,” said Florrie. “How d’ye do? There’s plenty of examples nowadays if one wanted them, which I don’t.”
“I’m sure, Aunt Lizzie,” put in the eldest sister, a tall young woman of nineteen or so, “there isn’t harder work in the world than in trying to set an example to Florrie.”
“You don’t set a nice one,” said Florrie.
“It would be a deal better for you, Florence,” said her aunt, “if you did take example by some one. You’re getting a big girl, and that hat and frock are a deal too smart to run about the roads in. ”

“ Towards the end of the afternoon Mrs Lee went out, and her daughter was so quiet a person that Florrie had very little opportunity of being saucy to her.
She came up as the girl was putting on her hat to go home.
“Florence,” she said, in a rather hesitating voice, “tell mother you’re sorry. She’ll not be hard on you. Don’t be like your poor brother, and throw all your chances away. You are like him, but there’s no need to follow in his steps.”
“If Harry was like me he must have been a deal nicer than George,” said Florrie, who knew nothing about her eldest brother’s history. ”

“ The stranger lingered a moment as if he would have liked to say more, but contented himself with saying rather oddly, “Thank you—Miss,” and walking away.
“How very odd!” said Geraldine, “that there should be a stranger in the wood. Who can he be?”
“He was very civil in his speech,” said Florrie. “Yes; but the wood’s private; he oughtn’t to be here. Come along, Florence, we’ll tell Mr Warren we saw him.”
The two girls talked a little as they walked on together, Florence feeling suddenly shy, and as if she had nothing to say for herself. ”

“ Edgar’s manner was rather polite than respectful; his father showed no feeling whatever.
“I think,” said Edgar with one last effort, “that the matter has been made to appear more disgraceful than it is.”
“I never thought much of appearances,” said Mr Cunningham. “But there is no more I can tell you. If there is anything that you wish for yourself, you have only to name it. That night’s business cost you much as well as myself.”
“Nothing but the fall kept me out of the scrape myself,” said Edgar, “and Alwyn never knew that he startled me.” ”

“ Whether Mattie availed herself of this ingenious excuse, whether on a closer acquaintance Mr Clements developed traits in common with her favourite heroes, or whether, as was most probable, fiction finally faded before fact, Mattie did bring herself to a favourable answer before Florence sailed.
“And who’s going to look after Sybil and Ethel?” said Florence virtuously. “My lady and Aunt Charlotte would say it was a great disadvantage to them to be left to themselves.”
“Well, Florrie,” said the aggravated Sybil, “I don’t see as you were much the better for having Mattie to look after you.” ”

“ He would have been almost as much put out with Martha for wanting what she had not got as he had been with the one of his children who had brought him into disrepute. Florrie’s misdemeanours had never come across him, and she did not know what his displeasure would be like. She knew quite well what that of her brother George could be, and enjoyed provoking it. George was an irreproachable youth, and aimed at being a gentleman. He was of the dark and slender type, like Martha, and cultivated a quiet style of dress and manner. ”

“ And you know I must not delay in going to Ravenshurst.”
“Is Mr Edgar better, sir?” asked Wyn timidly. “Not much, I’m afraid, as yet. He must be very quiet for the present.”
“Is all right, Mr Alwyn?” said Harry, as he followed him out of doors.
“As right as may be. My father acknowledges me, and asks me to stay with him. Friendliness and forgiveness are another matter. He read and heard all I had to say, and I believe he thinks your character cleared. Perhaps the sudden meeting was as well for him as any other, but poor Edgar fainted; all plans and scruples had to give way. ”

“ Aunt Lizzie,” said Martha, in tears. “I don’t want him to say anything—I don’t want him to say anything at all—it quite upsets me!”
“Upsets you, indeed! No, Martha Jane, there’s no one more against flirty ways than I am; but a young woman should be able to receive proper attentions without being shook to the foundations either! A good offer is to her credit, and she can say yes or no, civil and lady-like. But in my opinion, Martha Jane, this is a case for saying yes.” Matty offered no explanation, but if she had had Florence’s tongue at that minute she might have surprised Mrs Stroud. ”

“ On the morning after Florence’s arrival at Ashcroft little Wyn Warren stood on the terrace of a pretty piece of walled garden on the south side of the great house, with the wrigglesome puppy in his arms, waiting for his master to come out and give him his orders for the day. Wyn was devoted to Mr Edgar, and to all the birds and beasts and flowers, which were the chief diversion of a very dull life. Edgar Cunningham was not naturally given to intellectual pursuits. ”

“ The three puppies, Apollo, a young fox terrier, and a little rough Skye, were sitting up on their hind legs in a row, under the tuition of Wyn, who squatted on the ground opposite them. Geraldine was looking on, holding her breath with delight, while Alwyn, leaning against the window by Edgar’s side, was laughing heartily and teasing Geraldine about her pet.
“Three to one on the little ruffian! Apollo’s nowhere. His back’s too long, and the fox terrier’s too frisky. Bravo, Wyn! You ought to keep a circus; they’re steady yet.” ”

“ When Edgar, half waking, looked at him, and murmured something about a dream, Alwyn felt that either this night, or all the past eight years, were as a dream to him. He heard the sounds of the rousing household, familiar as no other sounds in the world could be, and presently Robertson, who had gone to lie down in the outer room, where he usually slept, came back and said:
“Mr Cunningham has sent word, sir, to say that breakfast will be served at nine in the dining-room. Will you let this man show you a room? I think my young master will be quite easy now.” ”

“ When his cushions were raised he could see across the flower garden, over the low wall that bounded it, to the road that led from the wood and the village, up to the stables, and to the back of the house; and as his bright eyes were keen and long-sighted, he often amused himself with watching the comers and goers, noticing all that went on, as only those people do who are confined to one place. ”

“ I was inexcusable all through.”
“Give me your letter,” said Mr Cunningham. “I will read it; I make no promises. I—I am glad; it is a satisfaction to me to hear that you have done well. But personal intercourse is another question, to which you once attached conditions to which I am not likely to see my way.”
“The conditions, sir,” said Alwyn, “are, I know now, entirely for you to make. Without your desire I shall not come here again. Indeed, of course, I cannot.”
“I never felt till now,” burst out Edgar passionately, “what it is to be helpless. I’ll not ask you to stay without a welcome. ”

“ Dobbles and his master were quite out of sight, and Wyn had got to the other side of the pond, among a mass of ferns and brambles not likely to yield much out of the common, when he heard a rustling and saw a tall man standing on the little track beyond him, with his back turned. Wyn was a keeper’s son, and as soon as he perceived that the man was a stranger he at once jumped to the conclusion that he was after no good, and that he, Mr Edgar’s only protector, had left him alone at some distance. ”

“ She had a child’s confidence in the care she was childishly defying. People so proud and so respectable as the Whittakers could not even send their girl to a rough place where she would “learn the difference” between Mrs Lee’s “fancy shop” and general service. Poor Martha felt that to have Florence at home, doing nothing but give trouble, would be nearly intolerable; while what she would do if Mrs Stroud’s suggestion was adopted, and she was sent to stay with her, passed the wildest imagination to conceive.
“You’ll be very sorry, Florrie,” she said, “when it’s too late.” ”

“ She rode and walked with him; the occasional visits of Alwyn and his lively, earnest-tempered wife would oblige society and friendly intercourse, and Miss Cunningham of Ashcroft bade fair as time went on to find her life full of interest and occupation.
Sir Philip and Lady Carleton settled permanently at Ravenshurst, and one great anxiety was lifted off Wyn Warren’s shoulders when a happy home was found there for poor Dobbles, who drew the nursery donkey-cart or carried little Lily on his back through the woodland walks once so familiar to his steady feet. ”

“ The eldest son, Ned Warren, had recently married, and did not live at home, Bessie was away at her school until the harvest holidays, and Wyn was busy all day and had lessons to do in the evening. She had never seen so civil and well-mannered a little boy; while Mr Warren was a great big man over six feet high, with an immense red beard, very silent and grave, and good manners gained from the gentlemen with whom he associated. Her Aunt Charlotte, as she was directed to call Mrs Warren, was very kind to her, and never aggravated her, a fact which upset Florence’s previous ideas of aunts. ”

“ All the village had a feeling of sympathy with the trouble at the great house which was much warmer than the old respect. Mr Murray found that his squire could give him more than courtesy and the necessary subscriptions. He visited Edgar frequently, and when Geraldine Cunningham, Florence Whittaker, and Alwyn Warren were put under instruction for an approaching confirmation, it was for all of them something more than a piece of ordinary propriety, an occasion for dress and companionship, or a mere act of obedience, as it might have been once. ”

“ He turned off with a hasty “Good morning.”
“He’s as grave as his father,” said Mrs Warren, “only the master never spoke so gentle. Well, I’d like to have seen Mr Alwyn’s merry face again.”
“When folks have to right themselves after they’ve gone as wrong as Mr Alwyn and I did,” said Harry, “there ain’t so much merry-making left in them. Not but what a light heart, thank God, is very persevering. And Mr Alwyn’s got a twinkle in him yet. But coming home’s bitter hard to him, and everybody ain’t as forgiving as you, Cousin Charlotte, nor as comfortable to ask pardon of.” ”

“ I am sure Lennox had not sold the jewels, and made up the story of the old tree.”
“We cannot let it get about that the wood is full of diamonds,” said Sir Philip.
“No,” returned Alwyn with a laugh; “neither Whittaker nor myself could resist a little bird’s-nesting, but it was, of course, unwise. That was partly why I wished to make myself known first to my brother. I did not know then that part of our misfortunes.”
“Ah! poor fellow,” said Sir Philip, “he is sadly helpless. But your return will be a capital thing for him. His life must be rather solitary.” ”

“ All these influences were doing Florence a great deal of good; and an odd sort of partisanship for the lost Harry was stirring up all sorts of new ideas in her mind.
It did not begin very worthily: chiefly consisting of the notion that he was probably much nicer than George, and wondering whether he would have been down upon herself for her tricks; but the thought of him, and of “Miss Geraldine’s brother,” filled Ravenshurst with interest. Besides, “dressing up to frighten people,” if they were so silly as to be frightened, was a proceeding with which Florrie had far too much sympathy. ”

“ Mr Cunningham gave a hasty call. Robertson came out of the house, and Alwyn could do nothing but help to carry his brother into his room. He could not go till Edgar revived, which was not for some time, and then it was hardly to full consciousness, certainly not to his ordinary self-control, for he clung to Alwyn’s hand, entreating him not to leave him.
“Don’t go, Alwyn, don’t! You know I can’t come to you—you know I can’t come to the wood to-day.”
“Can you say nothing to quiet him, sir?” whispered Robertson. “He has no strength for such excitement. His heart is very weak.” ”

“ Florrie came in, and as soon as tea was over, and her father and aunt were out of hearing, she amused herself with scandalising George and Martha by boasting of how she had shocked Carrie and Ada through stopping to talk to Liza and Polly. She omitted to mention either Mrs Lee or the cause of the walk by the river. There were limits to the home endurance, and even Florence, when not worked up to delightful defiance, was aware of their existence. ”

“ Florence had once begun to astonish Grace with the history of how she had run after the boys down to the canal, and had then stopped with an odd new feeling that she wouldn’t like Miss Geraldine to know she had done that. Should she write home and say she would be a good girl, and go into any business Father and Aunt Stroud wished, knowing that some sort of fun could be got out of life at Rapley; or should she wait and let Aunt Charlotte “comb her down,” as she vigorously put it, till she thought her fit for a place at Ashcroft or at “The Duke’s?” ”